


Feel This

by JailynnW



Series: Empathic!Foggy [1]
Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, College Years, Empath!Foggy, F/M, Fluffy Feelings, Foggy POV, Friends with Feelings, M/M, Matt POV, Mutant Powers, Mutant!Foggy, Part 1, Pining, Secrets, empathic healing, friends - Freeform, powerful mutant Foggy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-03
Updated: 2015-09-03
Packaged: 2018-04-18 18:29:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4716194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JailynnW/pseuds/JailynnW
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Foggy is an empath that has to deal with being a mutant in a world that doesn't really like mutants. Matt has a lot of feelings about everything. Friendship is bound to happen - the rest, well they'll figure it out</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feel This

**Author's Note:**

> Why I'm doing this I don't know, but here is another story. Empathic!Foggy will not leave me alone. I really hope you like it.

@@@~~~@@@ 

“You need to sleep this off, Matt,” Foggy commands, leading his blind roommate to the small full size, well that's what the college said it was, but Matt's sure it's a generous twin at best, bed three feet from the door they just stumbled through. Matt clings to him, pulling him down on the hard mattress with him. He head falls to Foggy's shoulder, rolling back and forth. “Matty, buddy, come on.”

He lifts his head. The auburn haired man's face is a mask of drunken pain. His body tense with emotions he isn't ready to share, but then again he doesn't have to because Foggy knows. Well knows that he is angry and torn up and really wants to scream obscenities to the sky. He knows because he is feeling the same emotions run through his body. Matt looks in his roommate's direction, his shape echoing in his drink laden mind. The reds blend and blur and he can just barely make out some of the broader features of his friend. Luckily he has a good idea of what his body is like from the amount of time they've been around each other.

He tilts his head in a way Foggy calls the puppy dog stare, whatever that means, and tries to work out some of his thoughts. It's hard with the amount of lighter fluid he has drank that night to ease some of the agony in his chest. He hates this day so much. 

“What's it like,” his words slur.

Foggy freezes in his attempt to escape Matt's heavy limbs. “What's what like?”

Matt waves his hand in his friend's general direction. The movement making his equilibrium shift violently. His stomach lurching in reaction. He slows his actions down and takes several deep breaths. Foggy's heartbeat quickens but he doesn't do anything other than wait Matt out.

“What's it like to _feel_ everything? What's it like being able to do what you do?” 

Matt has been curious since they first met about everything from when it started to how he handles all the conflicting feelings thrown at him every minute of every day. Foggy is the first person he has met that has an enhanced ability, other than himself and Stick, but Stick doesn't count. He was just an asshole. Better forgotten. Foggy on the other hand, Matt wants to know _everything_.

Foggy sighs, his hands combing through his longish hair. He can hear the strands brush against the material of his shirt on his shoulders. “It's tough sometimes. Like now.” Matt watches Foggy's outline shift uncomfortably. “You are a bundle of mixed up emotions. It's overwhelming.” Foggy touches his hand. “You are projecting like a movie screen right now.”

“Sorry,” Matt mumbles. He isn't sure what he is sorry for though. Being a mixed up bundle of fucked up emotions or for asking the question to begin with. He guesses both honestly. “I-”

“It's not your fault,” Foggy tells him, slipping an arm around his shoulders and guiding him toward the pillow. A hand tangles in his hair and he leans into it. His fingers are soft and gentle and Matt starts to feel lighter somehow. How he manages that Matt hasn't got a clue, but soon he doesn't care because he is tucked in and warm and less fucked up than before. It's like his mind is seeping sadness from his ears and all that's left is a pleasant hum of memories. His dad's voice, his laughter shaking his body, the smell of Giovanni's pizza shared over conversations about math his father didn't understand but was trying to help him with anyway, the feel of his hand against his cheek as he pulls Matt in for a hug. Memories he smiles at. “Get some sleep, Matt.”

“Mmm'kay.”

He does. Matthew Michael Murdock sleeps better than he has in years on this day. The anniversary he dreads. The day his father was murdered and his life changed.

@@@~~~@@@ 

Foggy gently pulls his hand away from his slumbering friend and shakes it slightly. His fingers tingle from touching Matt's temple for so long. His head is swimming with rage and sorrowfulness that isn't his. Foggy aches all over from the pain of years without a dad. A hurting he doesn't personally have experience with but now it throbs in his chest, breaking his heart.

He is most _definitely_ calling his father tomorrow to just tell him he loves the man for always being there for him. His dad probably won't even have to ask why his son is doing it either. His parents have grown accustomed to Foggy randomly showering them with affection. Years of experience with the unusual for the Nelson clan with Foggy being at the center of it.

He moves quietly over to his own bed, laying against the thin pillow. He begins breathing as evenly as he can, the way he was taught, to relieve the headache beginning to form from using his power to help Matt. He never regrets doing it, for anyone, until his head feels like it's about to squeeze his brain out of the top of his skull. 

_“It'll be okay, Foggy,” a voice from his past soothes him. “Just let the emotions flow through you. Embrace them and then let them go.”_

Foggy follows the sage advice he receives from Professor Charles Xavier and begins the long task of working through the feelings he absorbed earlier from Matt. He smiles a little and says back to the voice in his head, _“It's been a long time, Professor X. What made you drop in and say hello tonight?”_

_“I was using Cerebro to find students and heard your distress.” The older man sits comfortably in his thoughts while they talk like most normal people sit comfortably at a kitchen table. “I'm sorry your friend is dealing with so much. You did a nice thing for him. Easing the hurt.”_

_“I didn't ease enough,” he sighs, “Matt has a lot of wounds, deep ones, that I can't even begin to heal. At least not without a lot of time.” He chews his bottom lip thoughtfully, “He asked me to never use my ability on him without his permission. But he was so hurt...”_

_“It's alright, my dear boy,” the professor assures, “You didn't do anything other than give him a moments peace so he can sleep. I don't think he'll hate you for that, if he remembers that is. From what I could sense, the young man is extremely drunk.”_

_Foggy chuckles. “He'll be feeling a headache from hell tomorrow. There is a place here that serves liquor I've never even heard of, although Logan probably has. It's some strong stuff and Matt, my roommate, drank quite a bit tonight.”_

The two “talk” well into the wee hours of the morning, before Foggy's own exhaustion takes hold and he slips into unconsciousness. He'll have some explaining to do to Matt in the morning, but now his friend is sleeping and he can rest a little knowing he helped get him there.

@@@~~~@@@ 

(Seven Months Ago)

Foggy sits anxiously on his bed typing on the keyboard, urging the slow as shit internet service to load the page. He needs in that class and he needs in that class NOW! The tiny whirling circle in front of him makes him want to throw the fucking thing out the window. He closes his eyes to try and gain some calm. All that does is open him up to all the other emotions floating around him like seaweed in an ocean. His fingers go to his temples and he rubs small circles over and over again against the pressure building. Maybe he should have looked into off campus housing...in the woods somewhere.

The door to his dorm room opens and he feels a new wave of nervousness, and fear, pulse in the air. He doesn't lift his head. Part of him is hoping like hell whoever it is will turn right back around, taking his emotions with him. Foggy continues to watch the screen, counting the seconds in his head.

_1_

“Excuse me, is this room 312?”

 _2_

_Shit! Don't look up, don't look up. Oh God._

“Yeah,” he stubbornly keeps his head down. “Who you looking for?” The man moves into the room and Foggy finally gives up as a new emotion (he isn't sure if it is his or the new person's) takes hold – exasperation. “Oh- uh- sorry.”

“What for?”

“You're blind right?” _Smooth Nelson. Real smooth._

“Uh yeah so they tell me,” he reaches out for the bed across from where Foggy is sitting. 

He watches as a kind smile settles on the other man's lips. It's a nice smile. Foggy likes it, but can tell it isn't quite real. It's the polite one he gives to ease discomfort. Foggy isn't uncomfortable. People being different is something he is used to. Hell he is one of the poster children for the different youngsters of the world and not just because of his long hair and super cool facial hair. 

“I hope that won't be a problem,” the guy drops a duffle bag onto the mattress.

“Why would it?” Suddenly the dots connect and he feels like an idiot. This emotion is all his. It's nice to be able to have one for himself. “Oh. Oh! You're my new roomy.”

“Matt Murdock,” he holds out his hand and Foggy jumps up from his bed to shake it.

“Foggy Nelson,” he moves back. Something nags at the back of his mind. “Wait, Matt Murdock? Are you? You're not from Hell's Kitchen are you?”

“Yeah,” genuine confusion lines his handsome face. “Born and raised.”

“So am I! I heard about you when you were a kid, what you did, saving that guy crossing the street.” Matt turns away. Embarrassment and discomfort at being recognized? Hmm. “You're a hero.”

“I didn't do anything someone else wouldn't have.”

“And yet you were the only one that tried.” Foggy insists. He moves toward the desk next to his bed and pulls out the paper he has there ready. “So since we will be roommates I feel like I should share something with you, well actually I _have_ to legally tell you.” The bitterness in his own voice makes him cringe. 

“Uh, um, legally?” Matt sits down on the bed, his forehead wrinkling in confusion again.

He takes a deep breath and begins the speech he has been preparing since arriving on campus, his tone becomes monotone, “Legally I have to disclose that I'm a mutant.” Matt's eyebrows shoot up. “My gifts, abilities, powers, whatever you want to call them aren't going to hurt you. I don't control fire, although I went to school with someone that did – he was a dickhead by the way or ice, again I know someone that can, he was very cool,” Foggy groans and Matt snorts out a laugh at his pun. “Please ignore that God awful pun. I don't think I can live that one down unless we both pretend it was never uttered.” Matt smirks but nods. “Thank you, now where was I oh yeah I can't control either of those or absorb your life force.”

“You know someone that can do that too?” Matt's voice cracks a little.

“Yep. Her name is Rogue and she is a kickass Louisiana southern belle that can make a mean gumbo but don't touch her bare skin. It will not end well for you or her. She takes some of your conscious with her... Um, sorry. I got off track. Anyway.” He pauses and then continues with the program as planned. “My mutation isn't going to cause you pain or anything.” 

He stops speaking, looking for a reaction and getting nothing. He opens his mind to Matt's, just testing the waters a bit. Curiosity, interest, no revulsion that's good. That's encouraging. He holds out the paper.

“What's this,” Matt takes the form from Foggy's hand and holds it loosely.

“A change of dorm room request,” Foggy sits back on his bed. “Mutants aren't real popular with many people so I wanted to be ready. It's already filled out, all it needs is your signature.”

“You want to kick me out already,” he's joking, another good and unexpected sign. “You just met me.”

Foggy laughs, relieved. “No but I was prepared for anything. Being a mutant, being different, makes you quick to protect yourself against the opinions of others.”

Matt looks away from him and leans forward. “Must be tough.” His voice shakes a little and this time it's Foggy that can't help but feel curious. “You said your abilities can't cause pain. What can you do?”

“I'm an empath. Basically, I'm a human mood ring. My eyes even change sometimes if the emotions I'm feeling are strong enough. If I let myself, I can feel what others close by and some distance away are.” He rubs his hand over his face. “Not that cool and I'm definitely not dangerous.”

“You also said legally you have to tell me...”

“Mutant Registration law,” more bitterness. “Legally all mutants have to let people know that they will be housing, rooming with or living next to someone with abilities. Most times I feel like a sex offender because of it, actually sex offenders get treated better in most case.”

Matt goes silent then hands Foggy the form back. “I don't want this.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” a dorky smile curls his full lips and okay that's an adorable look right there. “I think what you can do is cool and as long as you don't enter my head without my permission, I don't have a problem with it.”

“Awesome,” Foggy grins. His computer chooses this moment to ding at him. He turns the laptop toward him and grins harder, “I'm in!”

“In where?”

“Punjabi. I got the last spot.” Foggy quickly saves the changes to his schedule before the internet monsters decides to eat anything.

“You're taking Punjabi?” Matt's expression clearly shows his belief.

“Well yeah,” Foggy licks his lips shutting down the computer. “It's spoken by more than a 100 million people, I'd like to know what they are saying.”

“That's the only reason you're taking it?”

He swallows, “Why else would I?”

Matt eyes him, or at least he looks directly at his left shoulder, “A girl maybe?”

Foggy grins and has to chuckle. It's not too far off the mark. There is a girl...and a guy that he wouldn't mind getting to know. “It's possible.” Matt grins. Fuck! His roommate is cute. That could cause some issues... issues he hasn't had to deal with in a long time. He would have to practice some serious self control with him. “Do you have any other questions for me about...well you know.”

Matt stays quiet for a moment then nods. “Is the Registration Act have something to do with you wanting to be a lawyer?”

Foggy shrugs, “Actually only partly. But yeah it had something to do with it. It's not right that people who are born different should feel like second hand citizens in a country founded on the ideas that everyone is created equal. We've should be further along in accepting others. So if I can somehow get to a point where I can make a difference for others like me, or just people being bullied, I'm gonna try. I don't want the world Magneto grew up in.”

“Magneto?”

“Another mutant.” Foggy explains, “He was in a concentration camp as a kid. His powers manifested there. He has never forgotten what that was like. I can't say I blame him.”

“You know a lot of mutants,” Matt leans against the headboard.

“The school I went to when I started showing abilities was designed to protect and accept people like me. And others. I got to be around other kids and adults that understood and yeah, I met a lot of mutants.”

“Sorry I'm being so intrusive. I've just never met a mutant.”

“You aren't.” Foggy assures. “And you only think you haven't. You probably have met at least one or two in your lifetime. You just didn't know it.” He sighs, tiredly. “Because of the prejudice some mutants hide who they are. Maybe because of family or their own fear.”

“Your family okay with it?”

Foggy grins at Matt, “My parents and sister are extremely supportive. My father and mother both campaigned to stop the registration law from being passed.” Matt smiles warmly at him. “Hey you wanna grab a cup of coffee? I know a place on campus that has shit for coffee but a lot of luscious co-eds go there for their half-caf soy milk lattes.”

Matt laughs, “Let's go!”

@@@~~~@@@ 

Matt wakes up and wishes he hadn't the next morning. His throat is dry and his head is currently housing a drumming competition. He rolls over, burying his head as far under the pillow as he can get to block out the sound of life that is trying to kill him.

“Rise and shine, Valentine,” Foggy sings from the over side of the room. Matt removes his left hand from under the pillow and raises one finger toward his roommate. Foggy chuckles, “Now that's just plain rude, although if you really want, I'm up for the challenge. Just gotta stretch a little. Maybe do a sit up or twenty.”

“How are you so fucking chipper when I am slowly dying?”

Foggy sits on the bed beside him and oh God even the sheets against his skin is making him hurt, not to mention the jostling of the bed. “Well that would be because unlike you my drunken friend, I didn't drink half a bottle of something I'm pretty sure was something they used to strip paint off the walls.”

“Can you stop talking?” Matt buries further under the covers. “And stop moving so loudly.”

“Nope, but I might be able to help you.”

“I doubt anything can help,” Matt moans pitifully.

“Uh,” his friend's heartbeat increases in speed and Matt groans again. Fucking senses! “I really can.”

“How?”

“Uh, I have to use my abilities,” Foggy hesitates. 

This peaks Matt's interest enough to move his head out from under the pillow. Thank God he can't see the light, but the feel of it on his skin is enough to make him want to crawl into a dark corner for the next ten hours or so. The radar of his vision sharpens enough for him to get a pretty good picture of his roommate's uncomfortable form shifting ever so slightly on the bed. Foggy's heart is racing now, nervous sweat perfuming the air around them.

“What does it entail?” _How is he forming complete sentences?_

“Nothing really,” Foggy rubs his hands together. “I just need you to relax and I'll, um, work?”

“You sound completely unsure.”

“Not unsure just,” he presses his fingertips to Matt's temples. They're chilly against his heated flesh and Matt almost sighs in relief as some of the pounding in his head eases. The aches in his bones lessens, the light no longer feels like it's trying to scorch his skin from his body. Matt feels only a dull throb now. “Okay there,” he gently removes his hands from Matt and gets off the bed, “you should be feeling more human now.” 

Matt rolls over, smiling in Foggy's direction. His roommate's heart rate accelerates a tick, then almost immediately settles back to a normal beat. Matt isn't stupid. He knows Foggy likes him. Knows Foggy likes a lot of people, but especially Matt. What he doesn't know is how _he_ feels about _Foggy_. It's always confusing. Just like almost every other aspect of his life. He eases into a sitting position, resting his arms over his folded legs.

“Thanks,” he bites at his bottom lip, thinking, then he finally asks the question. “How did you do that?”

Foggy sits on his bed. His nervous movements translating quite well in Matt's radar vision. Finally he settles, only to shift one more time. “It's called Empathic healing. It's not anything special,” _Lie_ Matt thinks in awe. “I'm not even very good at it.” _Huge lie._

Humble words. Foggy says that about his debating skills as well, which Matt has personal knowledge of how good he is, having been on the other side of one of his arguments. So Matt can't help but believe this is also a way for his friend to deflect. Matt suspects Foggy is more special than he's letting on. He makes a mental note to look further into what an empath is and can do. He wonders how much Foggy holds back from him and how much more there is to discover.

“So you took on my hangover?” Matt smirks, “That's like right up there with giving a kidney.”

Foggy chuckles, his body relaxing, “It's not quite that heroic.” He takes a deep breath, “It's like an echo to me. I can feel what you are, obviously, but when I choose to, I can – kinda – absorb pain. It doesn't hurt me,” he fidgets, “not really. It's like, what I said, an echo. In starts out strong then quickly fades.” He holds out his arms, “I don't even feel it anymore.”

More sweat, bitter in smell. Heart rate up. _Lie._

“Really? My massive hangover is completely gone?”

“Hmm,” is his friend's noncommittal response. 

Matt decides to leave it for now. He really has no leg to stand on in the secrets department. He has more bodies buried in his soul than he really wants to think about. And a devil that loves to dance under his rib cage, right next to his heart. Matt's biggest fear is that it won't be long before he finally makes his way in and settles firmly in his soul. That fear makes him pray harder and ask for more than just forgiveness. 

“Well,” Matt stretches his body. Foggy's pulse jumps again. “My head and body thank you for your help.” His mood turns a little sour once the reason he got so drunk resurfaces in his mind. “Sorry I got so out of control.”

Foggy shrugs, “I just shrugged. Listen Matt,” he gets off his bed again and starts pacing the floor. “I...” Whatever he is about to say gets cut off by his phone. He groans. “It's Candace. Let me take this and then we'll talk some more.”

“That's alright,” Matt waves him off. “I don't really want to talk. Um, I'm going to go take a shower and then maybe go for a walk.” He leaves the room before Foggy can respond.

@@@~~~@@@ 

It's been a week since Matt ran out of the room like his ass was on fire and they still hadn't talked. Foggy knows when he is being avoided. He has to give it to his roommate, it's like he can sense when Foggy will be in the room and when he won't be because they never cross paths. He knows Matt has been there. Clothes will be moved, more will be added to his hamper, books appear and disappear on his desk, his reader will still have his ear buds in the jack. But the man behind the items- never there. He's starting to wonder if Matt might be a mutant too with teleportation abilities.

He grips the glass of beer tighter in his hand. He actually thought Matt might be cool with him and what he can do – even if that was only a small sample size. If Matt knew the full extent, well this would seem like child's play. There are levels to his abilities even Foggy hasn't reached out to explore yet because each one scares him a little more than the last. 

When he first started showing signs of being different, he welcomed it. Growing up he was always the chubby kid that was a little weird. Foggy like anime before it was cool. He thought in different ways. He tried, still does, to be kind even when others weren't. (Others like Kent Mason, that fucking jack ass. The day Brett punched him in the mouth for plotting with his friends to jump Foggy the next day was one of the best days _EVER_! He went home immediately and baked the cookies the other boy loved and gave them to him with a grateful smile. They don't discuss that again, but Foggy never forgot.) It wasn't until later, he really understood that being different came at a cost. A pretty high one. 

The few friends he had, left – except Brett - his best frenemy forever. The emotions of the school drove him nuts. He lost touch with what made him who he was. It was like trying to stand still in a raging river. Other people's fear, happiness, lust, depression, joy became his to the point that he couldn't tell where they ended and he began. 

Coming home to Professor X in his living room saying that he could help was like a beacon of hope in the tunnel of darkness. Foggy and his parents gladly accepted the help and a couple days later he was at the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters. He made friends with others like him and learned from teachers that have been through the same things he was going through. It was incredible. He loved it. A large part of him didn't want to leave, but then the registration law started to take hold and the path he needed to take became obvious. He had to fight for his rights and the rights of anyone and everyone that's been persecuted for being who they are.

“You're the mutant right?”

Foggy nearly drops the glass of beer in his hand, shaken from his thoughts by the blunt question. “Uh...” 

He turns his head toward the woman next to him and nearly drops the glass for a second time. She is gorgeous. Her long blonde hair is tied up in a high ponytail, swinging over her shoulder as she takes the seat next to him. Her full lips curl into a pleasant smile. Her blue eyes slant in his direction, open curiosity and interest in them. He licks his lips and places his beer on the worn wood of the bar.

“You are the mutant right?” She turns her body, angling in a way that only makes her look more beautiful. 

“Yeah,” he chokes, swallowing and tries again. “Yeah.” He thrusts out his hand and smiles, “Foggy Nelson.”

“Hmm, interesting name,” she slips her delicate hand into his, “Marci Stahl.”

The name rings a bell in the back of his mind, “You were in my civil procedures class with Professor Marks.”

A delighted smile lights up her face, “You remember me? I must have made an impression on you.”

“Kinda hard not to when you almost made the teacher cry,” he teases.

“He had it coming.” Marci shrugs. “So...” she moves a little closer to him and he can smell her light perfume. It smells like mint and spicy citrus. He really likes it, wants to bury his nose in her neck and inhale. “I have some sorority sisters that have dared me to come talk to you and see what you can actually do.”

Well that's a cold water bath if he's ever had one. Foggy can feel his stomach drop and he turns away from her. He didn't want to be anyone's dare or entertainment. He raises his glass to his lips, draining half in one go before finally responding, “I'm not a circus act. If you want to watch that, there is a youtube channel dedicated to mutants being put on display.”

He lets his mind open to read her emotions and is shocked to see she isn't embarrassed or angry with his dismissal. Instead she is amused. And, he swallows, a little turned on. Foggy drains the other half of his beer, waving the bartender over for a refill. Marci sips her cocktail, sucking on the cherry that was floating in it moments before. He turns back to her. 

“Is there something else,” he asks half because he wants to know and half because he wants to push her buttons.

“You didn't let me finish what I was going to say,” her azure eyes flare up, “I don't really appreciate being interrupted. It's very rude.” He blushes, waving his hand, indicting he is listening. “As I was saying they dared me to talk to you, but I only took the dare because _I_ want to see what you can do.” She licks her lips. “I heard you are an empath,” he nods, “What am I feeling right now?”

He grins, “I don't think I should say that in public.”

Her left eyebrow slowly lifts, “What's sex like with an empath?”

“Never had any complaints,” his voice breaks a little because yeah this is turning heated quickly, “and I would know if the other person hated it.”

She laughs, “So you cheat during sex.”

“Is it really cheating if the other person is the one winning,” he tips his glass in her direction.

“Holy fuck that was cheesy,” she laughs and he joins her. “But you aren't wrong. And I want to find out how good you are.”

“You are pretty forward you know that.”

Her eyes turn a little chilly, “Does a strong woman that likes sex offend you? Are you one of those assholes that thinks if a woman wants to fuck a guy she's a slut?”

“Nope, women should have as much sexual freedom as they want,” he shakes his head, but keeps his eyes on hers. “I'm just not used to a woman wanting to be forward with _me_. I'm not exactly Chris Pine or Ryan Gosling or Shemar Moore whoever the hot guy is right now.”

“All of them are,” she smiles again. “But you aren't so bad yourself.” Her demeanor relaxes. “I would like to see what you can do both in and out of bed.”

He looks at her, lets her wants rush into him and mingle with his own, grinning at her. “Your place or mine?”

“Well considering you have a roommate and I don't,” she gracefully slides from her seat. “I'd say mine.”

Foggy follows her out of the bar wondering how in the hell this happened to _him_.

@@@~~~@@@ 

The steady swing of the bag in front of him sends Matt into a calm place. The sounds of leather hitting leather takes him back to a time when all he knew was the inside broken down gyms. Sweat slides down the sides of his face, soaks his back, covers his arms, this is how he centers himself. With punch after punch, harder and harder, he finds a piece of himself he lost with his father's death.

With the smells of past fighters, their blood, tears and sweat he can see for a moment. He can picture his dad's face, desire to succeed and make him proud and he remembers. These memories still hurt but not nearly as much as others because this is where Jack Murdock was the happiest. Even though his father never wanted him to fight, he thinks the man always knew his son had his love of it. The same devil that claimed previous Murdock men, lays claim to him as well.

Matt slows down his punches, his ears picking up on a new heartbeat in the room. Grabbing onto the bag he turns toward the person standing in the doorway. A woman. Tall, fit, slim. Her perfume is exotic and familiar. He knows this person. She pushes off from the frame, walking toward him. 

“Matt Murdock,” her voice, oh yes, he knows her. Spanish class. The beautiful Greek woman he followed into that class like a lost puppy. “You have nice moves. I don't know if you remember me, my name is...”

“Elektra Natchios,” he finishes, reaching blindly (ha) for his towel to wipe away some of the cooling perspiration from his body. “You were in my Spanish class.”

She makes a pleased sound, “Yes, yes I was. I didn't know if you knew I was there or not.”

“I did,” he agrees, listening to her heart beat rhythm change. Matt should hear warning bells. Something isn't right. But he honestly can't seem to care. Her presence dulls his sharp mind just a little. Elektra is all danger and fire. He hasn't indulged in his need to be burned in so long. “I definitely remember you.”

“You made an impression too.” She moves into his personal space. Yep he should definitely be backing up, instead he sways a little toward her. “A very, very nice impression.” He can almost feel her excitement and it starts to feed his own. “Feel like a sparring partner? I'll go easy on you.”

Matt swallows, hard. “Um...”

“Oh come on,” she inches even closer. “Let's see what you do can.”

“You sure,” he hesitates. Hitting a woman seems wrong but the blood rushing indicts she is extremely sure. And she shows him half a second later by swinging out her leg, swiping at his. A quick, devilish smile blooms on his face. Game on. 

The sparring lasts for hours. Their heart rates sync and falter, their movements flow like a dance. Matt finds himself letting more and more of his devil out as Elektra shows just how far she's willing to go. After a particularly stunning side kick that catches him off guard, sends him to the mat with a hard drop. She climbs on top of him, pinning him to the floor. 

“I win,” she pants, her hair coming over her shoulder to sweep across his bare shoulder.

“I don't really think I'm losing here,” he says teasingly. 

“No you really aren't,” she replies half a second before she leans down and presses her mouth firmly to his. 

All he can do is press up against her delicate body, moving his mouth the way he was moving his body with her before. It's an extension of their sparring. Instead of fists and kicks, it's teeth and tongues. Same intensity. Same passion. He rolls them over until he is on top, settling between her legs. He moves his mouth from hers and drags his lips over her neck, licking at her neck, tasting her.

She arches up into him. Spicy heat. She moans darkly into his ear, rolling her hips into his. The urging motion not lost on him and he pulls away from her to rid himself of his shirt. She hums appreciatively, running her hands down his chest, nails scratching lightly at his skin. Leaving marks, burning him. He sucks in a breath as she leans up to press open mouth kisses to his shoulder. He wraps a hand up in her hair, holding her close.

“Matty,” an elderly voice calls out. “You still here.”

Matt pants into Elektra's hair pulling completely away. “Yeah, Max.” He helps her up and she presses a firm kiss to his lips, taking his breath.

“To be continued,” he watches her form leave with a fighter's grace. Matt stifles a groan.

“Hey, man,” the older man's face heats up, “Sorry.”

“No, Max,” he grabs for his cane and his shirt. “I think you may have saved me from something that I would have regretted.”

“Trust me, if you had your sight young man,” he lets out a low, slow whistle, “you wouldn't have regretted it.”

@@@~~~@@@ 

“Holy fuck! Wow,” Marci pants, rolling away from him. Foggy can't help but agree. “Where can I order an empath of my very own?”

“Um,” he chuckles a little breathlessly. “You just had one and he's still here.”

“I don't think you'll be completely on board with getting tied to the bed, naked to be used at my discretion.”

“Slavery is illegal.”

“Only if both parties are unwilling,” she runs one perfectly manicured nail down his soft chest. “Would you be willing?”

Foggy places an arm under his head, grinning at her, “Terms?” 

“I'll keep you for my sexual pleasure, occasionally let you out for class and will make sure all your needs are taken care of.”

“Nice.” He plays along.

“It is a good deal for all involved.” Marci grins easily. Both enjoying the teasing. “I get incredible orgasms and you get to have a super hot owner. Win-win.” She throws the sheet off her naked body and climbs out of the bed. “I'll draw up the paperwork.”

He wraps an arm around her middle dragging her back into bed. She shrieks with laughter. “I think we need to iron out some more details. And I may need some more convincing.”

“Really now,” she raises her eyebrows challengingly. “Let's see what we can do about that.” She ducks under the covers and he tries very hard not to moan out loud. 

He fails.

But that's okay because Marci tells him later she likes the sounds he makes. They turn her on. So he makes sure to make lots of noise and get some very loud sounds from her as well.

@@@~~~@@@ 

Matt pulls one of his ear buds out of his ear, watching Foggy enter the room. His friend stops, moving more slowly, closing the door behind him. Matt sniffs the air. Foggy smells like sex, sweat, mint and citrus with a hint of stale beer underneath it all. A flare of jealousy flicks against the back of his mind. Why he's jealous he doesn't quite know. It could be because Foggy hooked up while Matt was interrupted. It could be because Foggy hooked up with someone that wasn't _him_. And once again those confusing feelings rear their ugly heads.

“I'm surprised you're here,” Foggy starts, his voice calm, too calm. Matt knows he has been a dick. Leaving before Foggy wakes up, returning long after he goes to sleep. “You okay?”

“Huh?”

“You seem out of it and I can't quite block out all your guilt.” Foggy bounces on the edge of his bed. “You're projecting like a mother fucker.”

“Sorry.” Matt sighs. He places his reader on the bed next to him and scoots closer to the end of his own bed. “I've been a dick. I'm sorry. It's...”

“Alright,” he forgives easily. “I threw a lot at you and it's normal to freak out a little.” The smile in his voice is genuine, “You have the right to need space. Being what I am, doing what I can do is overwhelming and I can't blame you for wanting some time away from me.”

“I don't want to be away from you,” Matt insists. “I just...I needed to deal with some stuff my way and I didn't want to throw it all on you.”

“Friends are supposed to share the load, Matty. Didn't you ever learn that?”

“No,” he admits.

“Shit, buddy,” Foggy breathes. “You must have led a fucked up life.”

Matt laughs unexpectedly, “You have no idea.”

“Well that's about to change!” He reaches out and slaps Matt's shoulder. His touch lingers, tinging his skin. “I'm here to show you that friends are meant to get you drunk, hold your hair back when you get sick – that one mostly applies to me and my gorgeous locks – don't want them covered in vomit. Friends are meant to have your back and always, always listen to you bitch and complain. It's in the bylaws.”

“I must not have read that part,” Matt feels light and hopeful. It will be nice to have someone to lean on again. 

“Hmm,” Foggy tips his head back, falling to his bed. “I'll read it to you later. First I have to tell you about this gorgeous girl that picked me up. I have mad game and didn't even know it.”

Matt listens all about Marci and her appreciation for Foggy's “gifts” _”Not just the ones I can do with my abilities. I'm talking the whole package.”_. Matt finds himself smiling and laughing. He likes this. He also finds himself sharing back.

“Her name is Elektra,” he says. “We might hook up later. I don't know. She really didn't give me a clear idea. Just said it would be continued.”

Foggy's quiet on his side of the room. Then says, “That's great Matt!” _Lie_ , his heart reveals. “I've seen her around campus. She's beautiful.” 

Truth, but there is something unsaid. Foggy doesn't elaborate and Matt doesn't push. But he doesn't like that Foggy isn't telling him everything. 

The irony of that isn't lost on Matt at all.

@@@~~~@@@ 

The rest of their years at Colombia go smoothly. Marci and Matt meet and that's was an interesting experience. Foggy finds himself more open with his gifts with her. Liking that she likes what he can do and never taking advantage of it. Their relationship quickly evolves from friends that have sex to lovers that are exclusive back to friends with benefits. Even though they enjoy each other, there is always something just slightly missing.

It's not missing with Matt though.

And that's a problem. 

Marci is cool with the change in status, saying that as long as her Foggy Bear is there help her on those long, cold, lonely nights, she'll be tolerant of him breaking up with her. Matt thinks Marci's using him, but Foggy knows the truth. Marci might be a snake in the court room and abrasive everywhere else, but she's not like that with him. They understand each other. And yes, he knows their relationship is strange, but it works.

As for Matt, he continues to see Elektra on and off for years. Foggy always feels uneasy around her. Like she's one broken promise away from snapping. Her feelings are always dark to him and he tries like hell to never be around when she is. She leaves him shaken and off balance. Matt doesn't see it and scoffs when Foggy will gently point out something isn't right.

_“Matt,” Foggy leans over the library table. “She's dangerous.”_

_Matt rolls his eyes, “She's not.” He always denies. “She's just a fighter like me. She's a survivor. Please Foggy, trust me. She's not bad.”_

Yes Foggy wants to push it, but he decides not to. Matt asked him to trust him. That's what he does. Even if every part of him is screaming out that she's nothing but heartache for his friend and possibly more for everyone else around her.

Foggy wants to be a good friend. He just doesn't know which way to go in this case. Turns out it wouldn't be an issue much longer. Elektra leaves soon, just before their last year. It feels like a weight is lifted from his chest and Foggy breathes easier.

@@@~~~@@@ 

Matt never wants Foggy to be right about Elektra, but he should have known better than to bet against an empath. She is bad news and she loves that. Her reckless behavior starts to become harder and harder to ignore. She likes to push the envelope in ways Matt craves but knows not to. With her, he does things he shouldn't.

The sex between them is always like fighting. Rough, dirty, hard and fast. Passionate, but sometimes, also empty. Matt enjoys it. Really enjoys it. How can he not? But he also hates himself a little after each time. They don't really love each other. They feed off each other. Toxic in every way.

Even knowing that doesn't stop Matt. Like a junkie he runs back to her. Letting the devil play in her playground. Dance to her siren's song. It's fun and wrong and helps just enough to drown out the noise in his head. Cleanses his blood of the simmering love he is starting to recognize he has for one long haired empath. It makes denying himself a chance at happiness, that he doesn't believe he deserves, easier. 

Until it doesn't.

Until she does something he can't ignore.

Until he hears her talk about Foggy.

One big fight, real fight later, and she transfers to a different school. Gone from his life. Away from Foggy. 

If he _is_ a junkie, it isn't for her, because once she's gone, he doesn't even really miss her. He listens to Foggy's even breathing. He doesn't miss her at all.

@@@~~~@@@ 

Two months before they graduate, Foggy and Matt get drunk and Foggy finally asks, drunk off his ass. “Whatever happened to that Greek girl? She was hot, even if she was a little off her rocker?”

“Uh,” Matt sways leaning more firmly into Foggy's soft, warm body. “It didn't work out.”

Foggy smiles a bit dopey at him, “That's okay buddy. You'll find someone.” _I'm right here when you realize you already have_ , he adds silently. Thank God he can hold his tongue drunk.

“Maybe,” Matt trips over a rock. “But until then maybe I should go back to the dorm. I need to study.”

“You are such a nerd,” Foggy wraps his arm more firmly around him, “Come on, Matty, you're enjoying life! Soon we will be part of the fine, upstanding law profession, but right now, we need to live!”

“If you say so,” Matt shakes his head. “Where are we going now?”

“Wherever the night takes us.”

It ends up taking them back to the dorm. It is still one of Foggy's favorite nights he can barely remember.

@@@~~~@@@ 

Matt grins tipping his head up toward the sky. He did it. Dad he really did it.

He's a graduate. 

Foggy laughs loudly next to him, wrapping his arms around Matt. “We made it buddy! We fucking made it!”

Matt lets himself sink into Foggy's embrace. His friend's erratic heart beat racing with his. Their bodies pressing tightly together. Matt has never been happier. 

“Foggy!” A feminine voice calls out.

“That's mom,” Foggy pulls away and Matt instantly feels colder. Foggy wraps his hand around Matt's and drags him. “It's time to celebrate with the family. You aren't getting out of that!”

 _Family..._ Matt's blood hums with pleasure at that word.

He is a graduate and in two months he would be starting his internship at Landman and Zack with his family at his side. Foggy's parents hug him warmly. 

“Congratulations Matt,” Edward and Anne Nelson each tell him. Hugging him tightly again.

“We know your dad would be so proud of you,” Anne says crying slightly.

Edward wraps an arm around his wife, “We know we are a poor substitution for him, but we hope you'll accept us as your stand in parents anyway.”

Matt swallows, willing himself not to cry, “I'd like that.”

Foggy bounces next to him. 

_I did it dad,_ Matt thinks. _And I got a family too._

@@@~~~@@@ 

Foggy and Matt pack up their dorm with excited and heavy hearts.

“This is it,” Foggy sighs.

“Yeah,” Matt agrees, his voice small.

“You okay buddy?”

Matt turns a half smile on him and shrugs, “You don't need to ask Foggy. You know what I'm feeling.”

“I still want to hear it from you.”

Matt sits down on his dorm bed one more time. “I'm okay.” He pauses and Foggy waits, “I will be okay.”

“Yes you will.” Foggy says firmly. 

They manage to clean out their room and leave the dorm without another word. They were starting the next chapter soon. Foggy takes a deep breath and let's it out slowly. They can do this.

@@@~~~@@@ 


End file.
